


Overheated

by interflora



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Comment Fic, Festivals, M/M, Music, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interflora/pseuds/interflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt by embroiderama for Hot Fun in the Summertime comment fic meme: At a festival/amusement park/whatever, one of the Js gets a bit overheated, and the other J works/volunteers in the first aid tent.<br/>___________________________</p><p>Jared’s mom is so going to kick his ass.</p><p>She had only reluctantly agreed to let him go to Bonnaroo after graduation if he promised to take his medication and get some sleep—neither of which he’d done, which is why he’s sprawled on his back, staring up at the white canvas ceiling of the festival’s first aid tent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overheated

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all- this is just a quick comment fic to update my page and to say I'm still working. I submitted my first Big Bang earlier this month, so expect that to be out some time this summer if you're interested! I also signed up for the summer Wincest bang, so I'll be working on that for most of the next few months. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy this short little update.

                Jared’s mom is so going to kick his ass.

                She had only reluctantly agreed to let him go to Bonnaroo after graduation if he promised to take his medication and get some sleep—neither of which he’d done, which is why he’s sprawled on his back, staring up at the white canvas ceiling of the festival’s first aid tent.

                He’d meant to, honestly, but there was just so much to do even on the first night. He’d watched Passion Pit while knocking back a couple of beers with Chad and some guy from Alabama they’d just met. The kid from Alabama had had some _quality_ weed and Jared could roll better than any of his friends. They set up a blanket in the field in front of the main stage, lying back and watching the stars, the music pulsing a friendly beat in the background.

                Hazy from smoke and pleasantly warm, Jared had fallen asleep on the blanket sandwiched between Katie and Lauren. He barely remembered being woken up and guided towards their tent, only that it took Lauren and Chad getting under his armpits and staggering under his weight to get him there. He probably should’ve been more careful mixing weed and booze with antibiotics, but he’d forgotten about his prescription entirely with all the excitement.

                Walking at graduation with bronchitis had been bad enough, but sitting in the car for fourteen hours with his friends to get to Tennessee and hacking his lungs out every step of the way was pretty much the worst for everyone involved. Afterwards, he’d just wanted to get high and enjoy the fact that he was finally done with four years of high school hell.

                The second day of Bonnaroo was equally unforgiving. The heat in Tennessee wasn’t quite as bad as Texas, but the humidity made his cough worse, and by the time he and his friends had sat down to watch Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, he’d been sweaty and shaky.

                He’d laid down in the shade and woke here in the tent, his limbs too heavy to move and his stomach weak. He’d been conscious of hands feeling his forehead, of dampness at his temples and hushed voices.

                Jared’s lying on a cot not too high off the ground.  

                “Hey, you’re awake,” says a voice to his right. Lauren’s obviously relieved, the lines easing from around her eyes as she smiles.

                “How long was I out?” Jared croaks. He blinks against the light, registering first the wonderful, cool breeze coming from a fan and the wet washcloth on his forehead.

                “Only about ten minutes,” Lauren says, hurrying to his side. She crouches down, props his head up and holds a bottle of water to his chapped lips. “Jensen was talking about calling an ambulance if you were out for much longer but I knew you’d pull through.”

                “Jensen?” Jared repeats, dazed.

                “He’s been so great, Jay. He’s been taking care of you since you got here.”

                As if on cue, a guy who looks a couple of years older than Jared appears beside his cot. He’s tall, though not as tall as Jared is, and fit. He’s dressed in a white Phish t-shirt and khaki shorts. Behind tortoise shell glasses, his eyes are a shade of vibrant, summery green that makes Jared think of how it felt to stretch out in the grass last night under the stars.

                He crouches down next to Lauren and gives Jared a sweeping look.

                “How are you feeling?”

                “Okay,” Jared answers, feeling his cheeks color at how scratchy and used-up his voice sounds.

                “How many fingers am I holding up?” Jensen asks.

                “Three,” Jared says. Jensen has nice hands and wears a plain silver ring.

                “Have you taken any drugs?”

                “Not today,” Jared mumbles.

                Jensen huffs a laugh. “Anything hard I should know about?”

                “Nothing more than a joint,” Jared says. “This isn’t gonna be written down, is it?”

                “Worried about the cops?”

                “More like my mother,” Jared grunts.

                Jensen laughs again. Jared likes the sound of it—rich and full and straight from his belly.  

                “No, I won’t write down anything as long as you promise to take care of yourself for the rest of the weekend. This your first time at Bonnaroo?”

                “Is it that obvious?”

                “Lots of first-timers overdo it,” Jensen smiles and his eyes crinkle around the corners. “Anyways, you should probably take it easy for the rest of the day. Do you have somewhere cool you can lie down?”

                Jared casts a glance at Lauren, who frowns.

                “We only have our tent,” Lauren tells Jensen. “And it’s not exactly a fridge, y’know.”

                “We’ll keep you here, then, until you’re rehydrated.”

                Jared makes to protest, thinking about how he’s going to miss The Lumineers and Dawes if he stays in the tent all day, but thinks better of it. Jensen has another wet washcloth and he dabs at Jared’s neck and face.

                Jared’s still half-asleep and muzzy but it doesn’t stop him from suddenly being very aware of everywhere Jensen’s touching him.

                Lauren makes to sit back down next to Jared’s cot, but he waves her off.

                “Lauren, you don’t have to sit the day out because of me. I’m probably just gonna sleep it off.”

                “You sure? I don’t mind staying with you.”

                “Please,” Jared says with a weak smile. “I know you’re dying to go back out there.”

                “Kinda, yeah. But really, Jay, if you need anything—”

                “I’ll call you. See ya.”

                “Bye. Thanks again, Jensen. I’m trusting you with him so don’t mess up,” Lauren warns.

                “He’s in good hands,” Jensen promises with another warm smile.

                “Make sure he takes those antibiotics,” Lauren says over her shoulder as she exits the tent. “Bye!”

                Jensen shakes his head and looks back at Jared.

                “You guys been friends long? I thought she might be your sister or something the way she was hovering and asking questions.”

                “Been friends for as long as I can remember,” Jared says. “I hope she didn’t drive you too far up the wall.”

                “Nah. It’s good to meet people who actually give a shit about their friends.”

                Jensen seems to realize that he’s still dabbing at Jared’s neck even though he’s awake and alert and perfectly capable of doing it himself now.

                “Can I uh, get you anything?” Jensen asks. Either Jared’s imagining it, or Jensen’s a little red in the face.

                They don’t look at each other for a moment and Jared becomes acutely aware of the smell of grilling meat and the sounds of the festival carrying on outside.

                “I’m kinda starving,” Jared confesses.

                “Tell you what,” Jensen says, standing up. “It’s my lunch break pretty soon, so why don’t you sleep for a little and I’ll get a couple of those chicken kebabs from outside?”

                “That sounds perfect,” Jared groans.

                “Good. So don’t go anywhere and I’ll be back in an hour and a half.”

                As if Jared would go anywhere with the promise of a cute boy feeding him kebabs in his future.

                *

                Jared wakes up groggy and sore. His chest is still aching from the bronchitis and he’s definitely felt better.

                He recognizes the song he hears in the distance—something by The xx.

                The sun’s started to descend judging by the long shadows in the first aid tent. He’s alone save for a girl in the far corner who’s having a bandage applied over her eyebrow by a volunteer.

                Jared’s just starting to think he should try to find his friends when Jensen reappears with a grease-stained brown paper bag.

                “Hey there,” he says with a grin. “Feeling better?”

                “Not really,” Jared replies, sitting up on the cot gingerly. “But I’ll live.”

                Jensen sits at the foot of Jared’s cot and pulls out two bottle of orange Gatorade and two waters from another bag.

                “Hydrate,” he instructs, shoving the drinks at Jared.

                Jared obeys. He’s parched anyways and downs half of one of the Gatorades in two swallows. He chases it down with some water.

                “What time is it?” He asks.

                “About half past eight. You slept for a long time.”

                “Sorry,” Jared says. “I guess I’m just tired.”

                “Don’t apologize. You obviously needed it.”

                “I’m just bummed I’m missing the festival,” Jared says, gesturing towards the stage where The xx are still playing.

                “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be able to enjoy it good as new,” Jensen says.

                Jared smiles at Jensen. He’s tanned and freckled and has the lightest brush of reddish blonde scruff and it’s doing really uncomfortable things to Jared’s already uneasy gut.

                “So where’re you from?” Jensen asks.

                “Texas. San Antonio. You?”

                “Local boy, Tennessee. Moved here when I was a kid.”

                “So is this like a summer job or something?” Jared asks.

                “I don’t get paid, but yeah, I do it every year. I get to go backstage sometimes and I like being able to listen to music and help people.”

                “Sounds pretty awesome,” Jared says. “I guess you haven’t had much time to enjoy it with me crashing here.”

                Jensen shrugs and smiles. “Well, you needed the rest. And I was kinda hoping for an excuse to hang around you longer, believe it or not.”

                Jared’s stomach gives a pleased little kick. “Am I really that charming when I’m passed out?”

                “You have no idea.”

                Jared figures he must still be asleep and having a very good dream when Jensen passes over a piping hot kebab.

                “Oh, and before I forget, take your antibiotics too or your friend will have my head.”

                “Got it,” Jared says, digging the pills out of the backpack Lauren left by his cot and swallowing them down.

                He tears into the kebab, feeling only a little self-conscious in front of Jensen, who's watching him with a mixture of amusement and something else from behind his glasses.

                “What’re your plans for tonight?” Jared asks around a mouthful of chicken.

                “Dunno,” Jensen shrugs. “I guess I’ll probably check out a few bands before packing it in.”

                “So, what do you think: if I’m really good, can I go to Flying Lotus tonight?”

                “We’ll see,” Jensen smirks. “And only on the condition you don’t drop anything.”

                “What, like my wallet?”

                “I was thinking more like acid,” Jensen laughs.

                “Spoiling my fun,” Jared says, grinning back.

                “Do I have to come with you to make sure you don’t do anything stupid?”

                “If you come with me I’ll _definitely_ do something stupid,” Jared says before he can stop himself.

                He flushes.

                “Sorry—that came out, I didn’t mean—”

                Jensen only smiles wider, those adorable crinkles digging deep in the skin around his eyes and lighting up his whole face.

                “Are you calling me stupid, Jared?”

                For a second Jared flounders, completely dumbstruck by the fact that Jensen’s using his name and by the implication that he’d somehow be _doing_ Jensen tonight.

                Jensen watches him struggle to come up with the right words and laughs.

                Jared gives up and smiles sheepishly, taking another bite of kebab.

                “Okay so I suck at this. Will you come with me tonight?”

                “I guess that’d be the best plan,” Jensen says. “Otherwise I’d have to come up with some other excuse to keep you here and I get the feeling that’d be like bolting down a tornado and asking it to hold still.”

                “More or less,” Jared grins and swallows another mouthful of food.

                Jensen’s head is cocked to the side like he’s considering him.

                “What? Did I get sauce on my face?” Jared asks, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand.

                Jensen makes a small choking sound in the back of his throat.

                “What?” Jared asks again, rubbing harder.

                Jensen leans in before Jared can figure out what’s going on, catching Jared’s mouth with his own.

                The force of the kiss rocks Jared backwards and he’s back to lying down flat on the cot, only this time it’s significantly better because Jensen’s tongue is in his mouth and he tastes like spice and orange Gatorade. His lips are plush and soft and it’s already the best kiss Jared’s ever had.

                Jared grunts and gets a hand at the back of Jensen’s neck, his fingers brushing through Jensen’s bristly hair. Jensen gasps into his mouth and goes pliant, letting Jared take over. Jared sits up slightly, pushing the kiss back into Jensen’s mouth, tasting him and filling him and pulling on his lower lip.

                “Wha time is it?” Jensen pants when they break apart.

                “No idea,” Jared murmurs. He can’t take his eyes off Jensen, can’t stop thinking about how fucking perfect the freckles on his nose and cheeks are.

                “We’re, uh, gonna miss Flying Lotus,” Jensen says, licking his lips and sitting upright.

                “Right, yeah,” Jared says. “I mean, I still feel a little tired so maybe I should—”

                “It probably wouldn’t hurt for you to stay the night here,” Jensen agrees, nodding and trying to hide his smile.

                “I mean, just in the name of safety,” Jared says.

                “Right. Until you’re perfectly healthy. And if you feel sick in the night you’re gonna need someone around, so I guess I’ll just have to stay, too.”

                “Right. Just to be sure.”

                Jared smiles and Jensen grins back.

For the second time today, Jared’s feeling a little overheated.  

               

                


End file.
